


daylight took your eyes

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Poe Dameron: Free Fall - Alex Segura
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28501512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: “Little Zorii Wynn,” Marinda greeted her when she entered the large brown room.
Relationships: Zorii Bliss & Marinda Gan
Kudos: 3





	daylight took your eyes

“Little Zorii Wynn,” Marinda greeted her when she entered the large brown room. The wood panels all around the doors and windows felt more like barricades than decorations. “It’s been a minute.”

Zorii stared at her red skin, her bright eyes. It was as if no time at all had passed. _A minute_. Marinda seemed more settled but that was the extent of how her age showed. She sat poised behind the large table, none of the impatience Zorii associated with her. It had been almost two decades, though. Zorii wondered how differently _she_ seemed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer. It would probably be a kind assessment of her present self but her sixteen-year-old version held a special place in Zorii’s heart. She had deserved something different.

“It’s Bliss, actually,” Zorii said. She had worn _Wynn_ out of necessity, yes, but mainly as a way to prove herself and be taken seriously. She hadn’t wanted to just be handed her place at the top or be the logical legacy choice. She had wanted to be worthy of it, to know without a doubt that, her bloodline aside, she was the best person to take over.

She had never fully shed the last name Bliss, though. Wouldn’t even if she could. She was her mother’s daughter and that didn’t feel limiting anymore.

Marinda inclined her head. “Of course. How is your mother? The great Zeva Bliss.”

“She passed away.” It had been years now. Zorii had had barely any time to mourn her before been pulled under the weight of her new responsibilities. _It’s what she would’ve wanted,_ she told herself, the sentiment feeling both true and heavy in her chest.

“She was a formidable woman. My condolences.”

 _Formidable_. It was everyone’s word of choice when talking about her mother. She had been that, among many other things.

Zorii sat down in front of her, her back straight and resting against the backrest, her fingers stapled together across her midriff. “I’m glad you reached out.”

She had lost track of Marinda through the years. She knew she had gotten away scot-free by giving the New Republic Security Bureau information. She had turned traitor and betrayed their rules. It had been too much to process at the time. To understand what that had said about her mother’s response, about Tomasso.

Sixteen-year-old Zorii had had no way of understanding it. Time doesn’t heal all wounds but the seventeen years since then have given her some perspective, especially when it comes to making tough decisions or avoiding them out of misplaced comfort.

Here Marinda was, though. Running a small, barely legal operation, none of the frazzled energy Zorii remembered her possessing.

“After Kijimi, I— I’m glad you weren’t there. I had friends there. The war — I won’t deny it, it’s been profitable, but it doesn’t compare to what it has taken from us.”

The war — _the First Order_ — had already destroyed her home planet. It just wasn’t enough to destroy it in one way. Zorii felt bad for thinking _at least I won’t feel the urge to return now_. She had no home, no place to rest, after molding herself to her surroundings for the past seventeen years. She had lost herself and had lost sight of what she truly wanted while navigating her inherited legacy.

“Zorii Wynn — sorry, Bliss — member of the Rebellion, though. That was a curveball. I didn’t see it coming,” Marinda continued.

“I’m not. It’s a temporary arrangement while I get my bearings.” She didn’t owe _Marinda_ of all people any explanation about her alliances, but she didn’t want to be tied down to any group or organization. Not even through other people’s words.

“Are you looking to put a crew together, then? I could help you there. Give you some names.”

Was she? Zorii’s first instinct was to say yes, stick to what she knew. Her time back at the Ajan Kloss base was just a temporary bubble that existed in the post-war celebratory mood the galaxy found itself in. Like an overdue vacation from fear and dread. “Maybe. What have you got?”

“Only the best,” Marinda said with obvious pride. “My people are clean, no priors, no records.”

“That’s suspicious.”

“Not once you see their work. It speaks for them, their talent, and professionalism. They’re obviously picky about who they work with but I’ll put in a good word for you,” she said magnanimously.

Zorii inwardly rolled her eyes. “I would appreciate it.”

“I really thought you had become a proper Rebel, though. Especially after the way the New Republic turned a blind eye to the First Order’s occupation of Kijimi.” She paused, something mischievous and familiar in her gaze. “And I thought he had recruited you. Ace pilot, war hero, eligible bachelor. How is he?”

“He’s an ace pilot, a war hero, and an eligible bachelor. What more can I say?” The truth was that he seemed in some ways like the out-of-his-depth kid she had met years ago. In over his head and desperately trying not to show it, desperately working overtime to catch up. She found something inside her respond to it. A sense of recognition.

“Fair enough.” Marinda inclined her head. “I recently came across some intel that might be relevant to hero types like you, though.”

“What kind of information?” _And how much is it going to cost me?_ Zorii thought.

Everyone needed to make a living and Zorii had no room to judge _anyone_ , but there were some things you shouldn’t profit from. She had heard around the Resistance base stories about an undercover mission Poe and Finn had been involved in where someone had attempted to sell the location of political prisoners as part of a game. It had unsettled her.

Marinda made a show of looking around the room, turning her face to the window; the light coming from the outside made her lekku seem a bright shade of crimson. “The kind I’m willing to share freely with an old friend,” she said, something playful in her words. “I don’t know how interesting it will be to you if you’re not _really_ with the Rebellion, though.”

A challenge, a test. Zorii wouldn’t be getting her new crew from her, after all. “Will it be of interest to them? To the galaxy at large?”

“The First Order general, the one from all propaganda holovids? He’s alive and in hiding.”

Zorii tensed. It wasn’t what Poe had told her. Nor the only thing he had told her about this general. _He saved our lives_ , he had said, displaying the kind of over-investment she expected from his teenage self. “How do you know this?”

“I have eyes in many places. I know exactly where’s he’s recovering too,” Marinda said, lifting her shoulder.

“Where?” Zorii asked, leaning forward, betraying her interest.

“Well, I’ll tell you this evening. I’m actually a little short-staffed and need a pilot to pick up some friends who have found themselves stranded. I remember you being good at it.”

Zorii inwardly groaned. “I thought this information was free.”

“It is. This little two-way trip would be a personal favor from one friend to another. What do you say?” Her demeanor was suddenly serious, the playful act fading away.

Zorii sighed. Was this the life of a proper hero type? It could be worse, she supposed. “I’m in.”


End file.
